Dirty Filthy Fix: A Fixed Trilogy Novella (Fixed #5.5)(34)

He set me on my feet and took my hand, and led me to a bedroom that was probably off limits—but who even cared about rules at the moment? Certainly not I.

I fell into his arms. “I missed you,” I said before he had a chance to say anything else, before my anxiety had a chance to take over and my doubts prevented me from getting it off my chest. I peered at him through the holes in my mask. “I don’t want to...not see you so much. Is that something you might want too?”

“I would very much like to see you more,” he said, his hand cradling my face. “Look, Trish. I heard you the other night. I listened and I understand. I’m sure that there have been a lot of people who’ve wanted to tie you down. It’s hard to see something as amazingly free as you are and not want to capture it. Trust me when I say I know what people will do to get their hands on rare art.”

I kept my eyes steady on his, unsure where he was going or if he really did understand me, or if all this was leading to why my version of a happy ending didn’t match his.

“I get you, babe. Because I’ve never wanted to be tied down either. And I would never dream of taking anything away from you. I don’t want to imprison you. I want to fly with you.” He dropped his hand from my face so he could push his mask off his own. “Look, I know what I want. But more importantly, I know what I don’t want. And I don’t want to be looking for some elusive ideal either. I’m forty-five years old, Trish. I don’t want to fly alone for the rest of my life. I want to know that there’s someone to fly with. I want that person to be you. I think that person was maybe always you.”

Again, my eyes teared up. Good thing I was wearing a mask and no one could see.

Except then, Nate slipped my mask up on top of my head and wiped the stray tear from my cheek. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box, rectangular shaped, not the kind that fit a ring—thank God. The kind that maybe fit...a pin?

I frowned, puzzled as I took it from him. “What is it?”

“Open it. Find out.”

Tentatively, I unwrapped the bow and slid off the lid. Inside, there were two keys, not matching. One, though, looked oddly familiar. Like the key to get into the building of my apartment.

I peered up at him questioningly.

“I rented the unit next door to you. For now, it’s off the market. If everything works out, I’ll buy it.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You Annie Leibovitz’d me?”

“I’m certainly trying.”

I pulled the keys from the box, looked at them, and handed them over, because they didn’t belong to me. They belonged to him. Just like a part of me belonged to him.

“This way, we can ride home in a cab together,” he said, “not because we’re assuming anything, but just because we live next door. And if you want to see me, I’ll be there. If you need your space, you can always shut the door. You’ll always have the opportunity to have a wall between us.”

I crashed against him, throwing my arms around his neck and molding my lips to his. “It’s amazing. You’re amazing. You fixed it!”

He gave a half shrug as his hands began roaming over my scantily clad body. “Can we ‘not’ go home together now? I don’t officially move in until tomorrow, but I put an air mattress down in case you want to stop by and visit your new neighbor at any point during the night.”

“We should christen every room!” I was as excited as the hard bulge poking into my belly.

“I have no objection to that.” He took my hand and started to lead me out of the room, but I tugged him back suddenly.

“Nate, if you do end up buying the apartment, maybe one day we could put a door in the wall between ours? So we could rendezvous without having to get dressed to go out in the hall and all that.” Geez, I didn’t know where that idea had come from, but there it was.

He had a twinkle in his eye. “Of course. Practical.” He started again to leave.

Again I tugged, my feet planted in one spot. “And if one day after that, someday in the future maybe, if we wanted to take down the wall altogether…?”

My heart was in my throat, my hand sweaty in his when he said, “I think this thing between us is going to be just fine.”

A short time later, with our masks donned and my clothes on, my prince and I stepped out into the cold night and caught a cab so we could go back to our apartments and spend time together—or not. The options were wide open.

It turned out there was a happy ending for me after all. It was a dirty, filthy fairytale, but it had a happy ending all the same.